


the flower

by soul_is_lonely



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drama, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_is_lonely/pseuds/soul_is_lonely
Summary: Jennie wants to take away Lisa's pain so badly.
Relationships: Jennie Kim/Lalisa Manoban | Lisa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	the flower

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song 'The Flower' by Tiffany Young. I recommend listening.

The call came at midnight. Jennie had woken with a start at the sound of her phone blaring from her nightstand. She sat up groggily in her bed, wiping sleep from her eyes, and hit answer, only to hear Lisa’s voice.

“Jen?” she sounded small, strained, as though she were carrying something heavy on her back.

Lisa never called late at night – she rarely called at all for that matter. The thought made her throat tighten a little, thinking that something must’ve happened. “You okay?” she asked, trying to blink the fatigue away.

“I’m good,” Lisa said, despite sounding anything but. She took an unsteady breath. “It’s just, uh, we had another argument. My brother and me. It got kinda bad, so I had to leave.”

Concern rose even further in her chest as she looked out the window to see that it was pouring heavily outside, sloshing against the glass in fat, ugly drops. She flung her duvet off and turned to sit at the edge of her bed. “Where are you?” She wedged her phone between shoulder and cheek and began searching for her socks on the floor.

“In my car,” Lisa replied. “I’ve been driving around for the last hour to cool off.”

She paused, silently glad that Lisa was at least safe and dry. “Come over. You can stay the night or however long you need.”

Lisa was silent for a moment. “You sure? What about your flatmate?”

“She won’t care.” Jennie shook her head, gripping the edge of her mattress. “Just come. It’s not safe out there.”

“It’s late, Jen.” Her voice was hesitant. Jennie could almost picture the look on Lisa’s face – her brow crinkled, her eyes downcast, her mouth downturned. “By the time I get there, it’ll be like 1am-“

“I don’t care,” she cut in, rubbing her forehead. “I’ll wait up. You don’t really have any other option unless you want to sleep in your car and freeze to death.”

“Death by sleeping in my car sounds kinda nice if you ask me-“

“Lisa,” she warned, for once not in the mood for her jokes that she’d usually be happy to laugh along with. “You’re staying the night here. Don’t fuck with me.”

“Alright, alright,” Lisa laughed before sobering quickly. “I can see there’s no use in arguing with you. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She ended the call and sat still for a moment, feeling heavy with worry. The rain pattered against the window in a steady beat. She listened intently, hoping it’d help rid the pleasant remnants of Lisa’s voice still lingering against her eardrums.

* * *

Jennie opened the door before Lisa could even knock. She’d been waiting by the window, eyes keenly searching for headlights as she listened out for the low rumble of a car engine. As she’d watched Lisa’s small white Peugeot pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex, something inside of her had eased, knowing she’d have her near again.

“Hey,” Lisa greeted, once the door had swung open. “Sorry about this.”

Jennie shook her head. “You’re fine. Don’t worry.” She moved forward and hugged her, squeezed her, as if trying to wring the pain out of her very bones.

Lisa was rigid for a moment before she finally relaxed into the embrace, although not fully, drawing her lithe arms loosely around Jennie’s waist. “Thanks for waiting up.”

They pulled away after a moment, and finally went into the apartment. Lisa habitually drifted into the living room with Jennie trailing behind her.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Jennie said, hoping the tone of her voice would convey her sincerity. “I know you’d do the same for me.” And she really did know. Because Lisa had always been there for her. Since high school, through university, their teen years into adulthood. She’d done it all with Lisa just there, right next to her.

Lisa only smiled wearily. Jennie had never seen her look so exhausted; dressed in a hoodie and an oversized denim jacket and black jeans, car keys dangling precariously from her fingertips. There was a certain slump in her shoulders, a certain waver in her step that was largely unfamiliar.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something,” she said, stepping into the kitchen, not knowing what else to do, just wanting to do something, anything, to help.

“It’s fine, Jen.” Lisa sauntered over and placed her keys on the counter with a muted clink. “I’ve already put you to too much trouble.” She slid into one of the stools on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Jennie questioned.

“Uh…I don’t know?” she shrugged, “This afternoon-?”

“Exactly. You must be starving.” She ducked down to raid the fridge and cupboards. “I’ve got cheese, ham, mayo, some lettuce. Looks like a sandwich is on the menu, Lis.”

Lisa shook her head lightly, a tinge of amusement in her dark eyes. “When did you turn into my overbearing grandmother?”

Jennie put the bread down. It had been a joke, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be humorous, not when Lisa’s eyes looked so sad, not when she could tell she was hurting. “You look like you need someone to take care of you right now,” she said and it came out much more sombre than she intended it to. “So, just, let me? For once?”

Lisa’s gaze seemed to soften at this. She leaned back and, wordlessly, motioned for Jennie to continue.

* * *

They were supposed to be best friends. And they were best friends. But recently things didn’t seem so straightforward. A label like best friend was beginning to feel much too juvenile for them now, too simple to be taped onto their relationship which felt more complicated than ever.

 _Yeah_ , _complicated_ , she thought to herself, watching Lisa eat. Idly, she moved around the island and climbed onto the remaining stool, so they were sitting side by side.

“Good?” she asked, leaning her head in her palm as Lisa tucked into the second half of the sandwich with a large chomp.

Lisa nodded, cheeks filled. “Michelin-star level,” she mumbled around the food in her mouth.

Jennie laughed both at the joke and the blob of mayonnaise caught at the corner of Lisa’s mouth. “God,” she said, “you’re like a child.” She ripped a paper towel from its roll and folded it neatly. “Come here.”

Lisa raised a brow at her, confused, but abided anyway, letting Jennie wipe her face tentatively. It was the closest they’d been in at least a month. It felt both parts weird and wonderful to have her near again. As her hand fell away her eyes flickered upward and she realised the sheer lack of distance now between them. Up close, under the exhaustion, she could clearly make out the same Lisa she’d grown up with. Those big round eyes framed by dark lashes; those full lips, pink and plump; that face so pretty and so delicate.

She pulled away, not wanting to stare too long, and stood to clean up. She binned the tissue and wiped the counters down distractedly, all the while Lisa watched her, finishing her food in silence.

Jennie was washing the dishes when Lisa nudged her gently out of the way.

“I can wash it for you-“ she began to say, but Lisa only shook her head.

“Let me at least do this for myself,” she responded quietly.

They stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink. Jennie could feel the heat of her, right there. Her heart seemed strange in her chest, like it was twisting knots around itself. She knew she was worried about Lisa, and she knew she was worried about the state of their friendship – but she didn’t know what to do about either. Lisa seemed so far from her, so singular and independent – how do you even attempt to help mend someone who seemed so set on doing everything themselves?

“Do you want to talk?” she asked.

Lisa lifted the now clean plate from the sink and set it carefully into the drying rack. “Talk?” she echoed, drying her hands. “We can talk. But can I wash up a bit first?”

“Of course.” Jennie nodded quickly, and ushered Lisa into her bedroom where she gave her some clean pyjamas and a towel. “There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink. All my stuff is on the stop shelf, so you can use anything you want. Okay?”

Lisa nodded and slipped out of the room. Jennie listened to the bathroom door click shut before she busied herself with picking up some clothes she’d left lying around. When Lisa finally came out of the bathroom looking considerably fresher, her skin clean and her hair tied back into a loose ponytail, Jennie was fiddling with the neon light strips she’d just put up earlier in the day.

“Those new?” she asked, draping the towel over the back of Jennie’s swivel chair.

She nodded. “What colour do you think?”

Lisa sat down next to her on the bed and looked up at the light strips fixed around the perimeter of the ceiling, humming in thought. “Pink?”

With a click of a button, they were bathed in a gentle pink light. Jennie looked over at her best friend and smiled, small and to herself, thinking Lisa seemed suddenly so much younger - barefaced and dressed in her old clothes.

“Which side am I taking?” Lisa gestured to the bed.

Jennie nodded to the side next to the wall, and without prompt she crawled and flopped down gracelessly onto her designated spot. She followed after her, letting her head hit the pillow, letting her mind wander to what Lisa was thinking, why she had to call at midnight in the pouring rain.

“What happened?” she prompted, glancing over. Lisa was laying on her back, fingers laced together on her stomach.

“It was just another stupid argument,” Lisa shrugged, shook her head. “Same as usual.”

“You said it got bad.” Jennie pointed out softly. “That’s why you had to leave.”

Lisa sighed. “Yeah. Well, uh…” she trailed off for a moment. “Things have been building up for a while. It just got a little out of hand. I thought it best I get out of there before it escalated too much, you know?”

Jennie nodded in understanding. She rolled onto her side and gazed at the side of Lisa’s face, wanting to make sure she had her full attention. “Did he try to hurt you?” she asked, referring to Lisa’s brother whom she was aware had been causing problems in the Manoban family for quite some time, with Lisa bearing the brunt of majority of it.

“Kind of the opposite, actually,” Lisa chuckled quietly, sadly. “He was on his usual bullshit, and he said something about taking my parents money,” she swallowed down, as if pushing the anger back down inside her. “So, I grabbed him by the collar and shook him, and said I’d hurt him much worse if he ever tried anything with my mum or dad.”

“Lisa,” Jennie whispered softly, surprised and shocked.

“I know,” Lisa closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. “I shouldn’t have. But it was…I just snapped.”

She reached out and touched Lisa’s arm, wanting her to know that she was there. “He probably deserved it. Your brother’s an asshole.”

“You can say that again.” Lisa smiled properly for the first time all evening. “But, of course, my parents won’t see it like that. He doesn’t see it like that. They’ll say I’m the aggressive one, the one that starts arguments. That it’s my fault.”

“But you were just protecting them.” Jennie frowned, rubbing circles onto Lisa’s bicep.

“I know. But they don’t realise they need protection from him. To them, he’s their only son.” She exhaled, as if trying to calm herself. “They overlook the fact that he’s manipulative…conniving, and that he’ll do nothing for anyone else, just for himself.”

Jennie studied her silently, letting her eyes trace the curve of her nose, the slope of her forehead, and suddenly she felt a kind of melancholy – the same kind one might experience when looking out at the ocean or a large body of water. She couldn’t quite understand it, the feeling or Lisa, and it left her a little helpless. She had the urge to get up out of bed and fix whatever it was that was causing her best friend pain. But she knew Lisa would kill her if she did that. Lisa liked to deal with things in her own, quiet way. Alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me things were getting worse with him?” she asked, genuinely curious. She wasn’t hurt because this was the way that Lisa had always been; soldiering on without complaint even when things were too much to handle.

“I guess uh…” Lisa shrugged and returned her gaze finally, eyes dark and shiny like something valuable you’d find deep in the earth. “There’s nothing that you could’ve done to help.”

“But I could’ve been there for you,” she argued.

“You’re here for me now.” Lisa caught her hand and held it, tightly, as though it were the only thing anchoring her down. “You’re always there for me.”

“That’s a lie,” Jennie said, hugging their joined hands to her chest, “You never really tell me what’s going on in your life, and when you do you always leave out the painful parts. Even now…you’re holding back on the details because you don’t want me to worry.”

Lisa looked back at her in a way that she’d never seen before. It was confused and exasperated but also apologetic. “Do you want to be worried about me all the time?”

“It’s not about me, Lisa.” She gripped her hand harder, frustrated. “It’s about you. And the fact you’re hurting but you don’t tell anyone. It’s not good for you. You’ll run yourself into the ground.”

Lisa was quiet for what seemed like a long time as she stared with a dedicated concentration where the back of her hand was pressed above Jennie’s heart, trapped there, almost held hostage. She waited, with bated breath, for Lisa to say something, anything. But she remained silent.

“I’m sorry for nagging at you, I just-“

“You care,” Lisa finally spoke up. “I know you do. I’m very thankful.”

“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, though?” she asked, looking at her imploringly.

“I understand. I really do,” Lisa nodded. “I know you’re right. But it’s…” she struggled for a moment, trying to find the words. “I’m…I’ve never done that before. Asked for help when I needed it.”

“Well, you should start, Lis. You can ask me for anything.” She stroked her fingers over Lisa’s knuckles, feeling every bone and vein. “Has anything else happened? Anything you haven’t told me about?”

Lisa opened her mouth, about to say something, but stopped herself, shaking her head. She took a breath and laughed again, humourlessly. “Oh, god, Jen,” she sighed, her voice warbly, unstable. “So much has happened, honestly. I don’t know where to begin.”

“I’m here,” Jennie said. She shuffled closer, to the edge of her pillow, her knees almost touching Lisa’s hip. “You can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” Lisa said, turning to lay on her side so they were face to face. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“It’s never a burden with you, Lalisa,” she said tenderly, reaching out a hand to push some hair behind her ear.

All she could think about was how beautiful Lisa was, how it wasn’t just about her face or her body, but everything. It was about how she had grown, how she smiled, how she could make a room erupt with laughter, but make space for someone else to speak. It was in the way she cared about people, Jennie thought. Pure and simple. Their friendship was complicated because it was different. She knew it right to the depths of her. The way she looked at Lisa was different, the way she spoke to her, the way Lisa made her feel was unlike anything she had with her other friends.

“It’s been hard lately,” Lisa admitted. “Really hard. I thought I was gonna cave a couple of times. But I had to keep going.” And then she told Jennie everything. Speaking cautiously at first, guarded, before it all came spilling out of her mouth like black ink from a bottle, across a plain page.

Lisa’s mother had been abusing alcohol, her brother was constantly gaslighting and fighting with her, and her father was too occupied with work to really do anything about it. For the last couple of weeks, Lisa had been coaxing her mother into therapy and rehab, while having to handle her brother as he continued to cause strife and discomfort in their household, all the while juggling her studies and helping out with the family business so her mother could receive help.

“It’s been so much stress…so much pressure,” Lisa whispered. “If I break down then the whole family breaks down. And I don’t want that to ever happen.”

Jennie listened, her eyes never leaving Lisa’s as she spoke. She could feel her insides physically aching, straining with every word. And she could not fathom how Lisa had kept this from her this whole time.

“Come here,” she reached out, untangling their fingers to draw Lisa closer into her arms, tangling their limbs instead. Lisa did not object. She melted into Jennie like snow under sun’s heat, looping her arms around her waist, tucking her face into the crook of Jennie’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her shoulders beginning to tremble.

Jennie just held her, held her as tight as she could, even as she continued to shiver and shudder, even when her teardrops fell and slid across her collarbones. She held Lisa like it was the only thing she knew how to do.

“Don’t be sorry,” she hushed, trying to move back to see her face, but Lisa only curled up closer to her, hiding in the refuge of her dainty arms. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, entwined like rose stems in a bouquet. She could feel the night thickening in around them, getting later and later, moving on. She glanced at her alarm clock to see it was now past 2am, but she any semblance of sleepiness had left her mind almost entirely.

Lisa’s quiet sobs eventually evened out into gentle breathing, so gentle that Jennie almost thought she’d fallen asleep. But after a moment she spoke, her words muffled against Jennie’s skin, “I’m sorry, Jennie.”

“Please stop apologising,” she admonished tenderly, loosening her grip to allow Lisa space to pull away.

Slowly, Lisa lifted her head and met her gaze, filling up her field of vision. Her cheeks were still stained with tears, her nose was a little red and her eyes were watery and large like the puddles of rain outside.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry,” she said faintly.

Lisa gave a small chuckle before untangling herself from Jennie and sitting up, tucking her legs into a basket. Jennie felt abruptly cold without her.

“Yeah,” Lisa wiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks. “It’s kind of really embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.” Jennie shook her head gently. “If it makes you feel any better, I literally cried yesterday because I burnt my toast.”

“Yeah, but you cry about everything.” Lisa smiled slightly. “Ever since we were kids.”

Jennie nodded in agreement. “Ever since we were kids,” she concurred. “Luckily you were always there to dry my tears.” And it was then she realised how true it was, and how true it still is. From scraped knees, to playground fights, to high school anxieties, first kisses and first breakups, graduation, into the overwhelming world of university, and everything thereafter – Lisa had always been there to mend whatever inside her was broken, to remedy any discomfort or worry. Lisa was always wiping her tears so carefully, so gently.

“I guess this is you returning the favour,” Lisa looked fondly over at her, seeming to have collected herself back together again.

“Something like that, yeah.” It came out like a whisper. Jennie just couldn’t stop looking at her; under those soft neon lights Lisa looked like something otherworldly that had fallen from the sky; in those old pyjamas she looked like the girl she used to ride around their hometown with, dressed in dirty converse and denim overalls. To Jennie she looked like a dream, like a heartbreak, like years and years of smiles and tears, wrapped up inside a slim body that didn’t know how to carry it all.

Jennie wanted to reach out and lighten the load; take needle and thread and patch up all the rips and tears, soothe the bruising that resided in places that nobody could see.

“You’re a good person, Jennie.” Lisa’s smile was small.

“You are, too.” She rubbed a comforting hand on the top of her knee, noticing how warm she was. “I think we should probably sleep. It’s getting pretty late.”

Lisa nodded and they shifted to lay back down. Jennie pulled the duvet over both of them. They laid, staring at each other, for a moment. 

“I feel exhausted.” Lisa said after a moment. “But I also feel wide awake.”

“Me too,” Jennie agreed, smiling softly. “I don’t think we’re in for a good nights sleep, huh?”

Ever so slowly, Lisa lifted a hand and ran her fingers over Jennie’s cheek, delicately pushing a stray hair behind her ear. Jennie didn’t realise she was holding her breath.

“You know, I was driving the other day and guess what song came on the radio?” Lisa tucked a hand under her pillow

“What one?” The gentle husk of her voice seemed assuage the tightness in her heart, and let them slip back into a vague sense of normalcy.

“Tongue Tied by Group Love. That song they played at prom, remember?” Lisa chuckled, her face drawing into an expression of nostalgia. “ _Take me to your best friend’s house, go around this around about. Oh, yeah,_ ” she sang softly, bopping her head to the non-existent music. “ _Take me to your best friend’s house, I loved you then and I love you now, oh yeah._ ”

“I remember,” Jennie confirmed, unable to stop the upturn of her mouth. “You played that song all summer. Even though it was like ten years old.”

Lisa took a breath. “I think about prom a lot.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “I think it was the last time that I felt…naïve. Like really young and dumb…but like knowing what I was doing to do next.” Rolling onto her back, Lisa’s eyes fluttered closed. “Everybody told me that university was going to be the best time of my life. But now we’re in our last semester. And I feel like I’ve just spent the last three and a half years trying to adjust to all these…changes. Scary changes. And grief and having to let go of things and…just forcing myself to be okay with it.”

Jennie’s brow raised slightly, feeling like she’d never heard Lisa be so honest before, so open with her thoughts. “There haven’t been any good times?”

“Yeah, there’ve been a couple.” Lisa opened one eye and peeked over at her. “Almost all have them have been with you, though.”

She swallowed down, knowing that it was the same for her, knowing that it had always been the same for her since she was twelve years old. Her best days had always included the sound of Lisa’s laugh or the curve of her lips or the sight of her eyes glittering in sunlight or moonlight.

“It’s the same for me,” she responded when she finally found her voice again. “You always make things easier to bear.” At this, Lisa opened her eyes again fully and looked over at Jennie – something troubled and indiscernible in her pretty pupils. But Jennie continued, even with her heart thrumming inside her chest like a bluebird trying to escape from its cage, because she wanted Lisa to know. “I’ve always admired your strength and how you hold yourself. But I’ve always wondered who you lean on when you break down. And I’ve always wondered why it couldn’t be me. Until now, I guess. I’ve always secretly wanted to be that person for you, Lisa.” She gave a staggered exhale, still not fully comprehending what it was that she’d just confessed.

Lisa seemed to blink at her and the words hung in the air like little fireflies, burning and present.

“Jennie,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbow, looking down at her.

About a thousand things flashed across her face - Jennie watched them, one after the other and didn’t know whether to curl up into a ball and hide or draw Lisa closer. She did neither and simply laid still, feeling as though there wasn’t enough air in the room for the both of them.

“Jennie,” Lisa repeated, even quieter this time, as they gazed at one another through the silence. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Jennie knew Lisa was proficient in at least four languages, but suddenly she was unable to find a single word in any one of them.

She felt herself tense as Lisa inched closer to her. Bit by bit. The distance closed until she felt Lisa’s breath fanning against her cheek, washing against her lips. Briefly, the thought crossed her mind that maybe they shouldn’t do this, that they’re just emotionally drained and overly tired and maybe this will be the decision, the thing to ruin them. Jennie thought that maybe she should put a hand to Lisa’s chest and push her away. But the truth was that there wasn’t a single fibre in her body that wanted Lisa to stop. She wanted Lisa through and through, for everything that she was and everything she wasn’t, for who she was then and who she was now.

Lisa dropped down and she kissed Jennie and it was so perfect, she almost wanted to cry.

She felt something beneath her, between them, shift – large and invisible. But she kissed Lisa back, catching her lips between her own, letting herself relax, letting Lisa take her over. She felt Lisa’s palm skate over her stomach and rest at the bare skin of her hip and it sent tingles all the way down to her toes.

She tangled her fingers in Lisa’s dark hair, pulling her closer, wanting to taste all the things she wanted to say but didn’t know how to. Lisa moved with her fluidly, intuitively, sending shockwaves down her spine, as she slid her tongue over her bottom lip.

Jennie opened for her, welcomed her in like a homecoming.

“You okay?” Jennie asked, breathless after Lisa leaned away, their lips parting with a gentle pop.

Lisa was panting slightly, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes and her long curled lashes. She swallowed down. “I…” she began to say but trailed off, seeming to think better of it. She leaned her forehead on Jennie’s. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in.

For a moment, Jennie thought that this was where it would end. Lisa would fall back to her own side of the bed, having come to her senses, a foot of distance between them, and they’d never speak of it again. They would continue as friends, just friends, childhood best friends that went months without seeing each other. It’d just be a dream, fading, fading, until she wouldn’t be sure if it even really happened in the first place. Maybe she would’ve been content with that if Lisa’s taste wasn’t already spread on her tongue.

She had to have one more taste.

She leaned up. She closed the distance. Chaste at first, before deepening. She sighed as Lisa finally kissed her back, sighed as she shifted, hitched her breath as Lisa settled between her legs, and let out a gasp as Lisa’s hands slipped under her shirt where she was bare and flushed.

“God,” she whispered, eyes falling shut as Lisa’s teeth grazed her ear and her mouth descended wetly onto sinewy surface of her neck.

When she opened her eyes, Lisa was shedding herself of her pyjama shirt. Jennie sat up and did the same, piece by piece, her eyes never leaving Lisa as she unveiled her skin, inch by inch. When Lisa pressed forward, it was soft and hot, and it sent her heart thundering in her chest.

They acquainted themselves with each other’s bodies cautiously at first, provisionally, before it spiralled into Lisa being pinned below her, hair splayed out across the pillows like soft black rivulets, lips parted and swollen, eyes dark, silently urging her to dive forth and take her.

She put her lips to Lisa’s every sensitive part and sunk her fingers into the supple flush before her. Lisa rocked against her, nails digging into Jennie’s shoulder, eliciting the most pleasurable kind of pain. She pressed herself as deep as she could, consumed in the velvety silk of everything that Lisa was.

She didn’t stop until Lisa was moaning her name, until her thighs were shaking around Jennie’s hips, and her back was arching up off the bed, the sheets clutched in her fists.

“ _Jennie, Jennie, Jennie,_ ”

She came undone like that. Jennie watched her writhe, lost in one wave of ecstasy before another came. She glowed under the neon lights. She bloomed like her favourite flower, opening, skin petal-soft and baby pink. It was the most enamouring thing that she’d ever laid eyes on.

Lisa had her on her back before she could even think twice. Lisa was everywhere, on her skin, in her mouth, thrusting inside her and leaving imprints. She gave herself up to it, unhinged and falling.

As she came, all she could see was Lisa, all she could feel was Lisa. And when Lisa kissed her, she thought about flowers: pink, black, blue and red, and how they all grow and blossom, just to wilt away eventually.


End file.
